The Big Otter

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  A PECULIAR WEDDING AND A WONDERFUL WALK.

  Turn we once again to the great wilderness, and if we do so with halfthe zest felt by Big Otter when he set forth on his journey, we willcertainly enjoy the trip, you and I, whoever you be.

  But we must take the journey at a bound.

  It is Christmas-time once more. Lake Wichikagan has put on its top-coatof the purest Carrara marble. The roof of the little fort once againresembles a French cake overloaded with creamy sugar. The pines areblack by contrast. The willows are smothered, all save the tops wherethe snow-flakey ptarmigan find food and shelter. Smoke rises from thevarious chimneys, showing that the dwellers in that remote outpost areenjoying themselves as of old. The volumes of smoke also suggestChristmas puddings.

  Let us look in upon our old friends. In the men's house greatpreparation for something or other is going on, for each man is doinghis best with soap, water, razor, brush, and garments, to make himselfspruce. Salamander is there, before a circular looking-glass threeinches in diameter in the lid of a soap-box, making a complicated messof a neck-tie in futile attempts to produce the sailor's knot. Blondinis there, before a similar glass, carefully scraping the bristles rounda frostbite on his chin with a blunt razor. Henri Coppet, havingalready dressed, is smoking his pipe and quizzing Marcelle Dumont--whois also shaving--one of his chief jokes being an offer to give Dumont'srazor a turn on the grindstone. Donald Bane is stooping over a tinbasin on a chair, with his hair and face soap-sudded and his eyes tightshut, which fact being observed by his friend Dougall, induces thatworthy to cry,--"Tonal', man--look here. Did iver man or wuman see thelikes o' _that_!"

  The invitation is so irresistible to Donald that he half involuntarilyexclaims, "Wow, man, Shames--what is't?" and opens his eyes to find thatShames is laughing at him, and that soap does not improve sight. Theold chief, Muskrat, is also there, having been invited along with Masquaand his son Mozwa, with their respective squaws, to the great event thatis pending, and, to judge from the intense gravity--not to say owlishsolemnity--of these redskins, they are much edified by the proceedingsof the men.

  In the hall preparations are also being carried on for something of somesort. Macnab is there, with his coat off, mounted on a chair, which hehad previously set upon a rickety table, hammering away at a festoon ofpine-branches with which one end of the room is being decorated.Spooner is also there, weaving boughs into rude garlands of giganticsize. The dark-haired pale-face, Jessie, is there too, helpingSpooner--who might almost be called Spooney, he looks so imbecile andsweet. Jack Lumley is likewise there. He is calm, collected, suave, asusual, and is aiding Macnab.

  It was a doubly auspicious day, for it was not only Christmas, but, awedding-day.

  "It seems like a dream," cried Macnab, stopping his noisy hammer inorder to look round and comment with his noisy voice, "to think, Jessie,that you should refuse at least a dozen sturdy Highlanders north o' theGrampians, and come out to the backwoods at last to marry anEnglishman."

  "I wish you would attend to what you are doing, brother," said Jessie,blushing very much.

  "She might have done worse," remarked Spooner, who happened to be anEnglishman.

  Lumley said nothing, but a pleased smile flickered for a minute on hislips, while Macnab resumed his hammering with redoubled zest to achuckling accompaniment.

  "It would be nothing," he resumed, turning round again and lowering hishammer, "if you hadn't always protested that you would _never_ marry,but--oh, Jessie, I wonder at a girl who has always been so firm insticking to her resolves, turning out so fickle. I really never thoughtthat the family of Macnab could be brought so low through one of itsfemale members."

  "I know one of its male members," said Lumley, in a warning voice, "whowill be brought still lower if he keeps dancing about so on thatrickety--there--I told you so!"

  As he spoke, Peter Macnab missed his footing and came down on the tablewith a crash so tremendous that the crazy article of furniture becamesomething like what Easterns style a split-camel--its feeble legs spreadoutwards, and its body came flat to the ground.

  Sprawling for a moment Macnab rose dishevelled from a mass ofpine-branches and looked surprised.

  "Not hurt, I hope," said Lumley, laughing, while Jessie looked anxiousfor a moment.

  "I--I think not. No--evidently not. Yes, Jessie, my dear, you mayregard this as a sort of practical illustration of the value ofsubmission. If that table had resisted me I had been hurt, probably.Giving way as it did--I'm all right."

  "Your illustration is not a happy one," said Lumley, "for your ownsafety was purchased at the cost of the table. If you had taken thelesson home, and said that `pride goes before a fall,' it would havebeen more to the purpose."

  "Perhaps so," returned Macnab, assisting to clear away the split table:"my pride is at its lowest ebb now, anyhow, for not only does JessieMacnab become Mrs Lumley within an hour, but I am constrained toperform the marriage ceremony myself, as well as give her away."

  The Highlander here referred to the fact that, for the convenience ofthose numerous individuals whose lives were spent in the GreatNor'-west, far removed at that time from clergymen, churches, and othercivilised institutions, the commissioned gentlemen in the service of theHudson's Bay Company were legally empowered to perform the marriageceremony.

  Of course Jessie regretted much the impossibility of procuring aminister of any denomination to officiate in that remote corner of theearth, and had pleaded for delay in order that they might go home andget married there; but Lumley pointed out firstly, that there was notthe remotest chance of his obtaining leave of absence for years to come;secondly, that the marriage tie, as tied by her brothers would be aslegally binding as if managed by an Archbishop of Canterbury or amoderator of the Scottish General Assembly; and thirdly, that as he wasfilled with as deep a reverence for the Church as herself, he would havethe rite re-performed, ("_ceremonially_, observe, Jessie, not _really_,for that will be done to-day,") on the first possible opportunity.

  If Jessie had been hard to convince, Lumley would not have ended thatlittle discourse with "thirdly." As it was, Jessie gave in, and themarriage was celebrated in the decorated hall, with voyageurs, andhunters, and fur-traders as witnesses. Macnab proved himself a worthyminister, for he read the marriage-service from the Church of Englandprayer-book with an earnest and slightly tremulous tone which betrayedthe emotion of his heart. And if ever a true prayer, by churchman orlayman, mounted to the Throne, that prayer was the fervent, "God blessyou, Jessie!" to which the Highlander gave vent, as he pressed the brideto his heart when the ceremony was over.

  There were some peculiarities about this wedding in the wilderness whichcall for special notice. In the first place, the wedding-feast, thoughheld shortly after mid-day, was regarded as a dinner--not as abreakfast. It was rather more real, too, than civilised feasts of thekind. Those who sat down to it were hungry. They meant feeding, as wasremarked by Salamander when more "venison steaks" were called for. Thenthere was no champagne or strong drink of any kind. Teetotalism--withor without principle--was the order of the day, but they had gallons oftea, and they consumed them, too; and these stalwart Nor'westersafterwards became as uproarious on that inspiring beverage as if theyhad all been drunk. There was this peculiarity, however, in theiruproar, that it was reasonable, hearty, good-humoured; did notdegenerate into shameful imbecility, or shameless impropriety, nor didit end in stupid incapacity. It subsided gradually into pleasantexhaustion, and terminated in profound refreshing slumber.

  Before that point was reached, however, much had to be done. Games hadto be undertaken as long as the daylight lasted--chief among which weretobogganing down the snow-slope, and football on the ice. Then, afterdark, the Hall was lighted up with an extra supply of candles round theroom--though the powerful blaze of the mighty wood fire in the openchimney rendered these almost unnecessary, and another feast wasinstituted under the name of supper, tho
ugh it commenced at the earlyhour of six o'clock.

  At this feast there was some speechifying--partly humorous and partlytouching--and it remains a disputed point to this day whether thetouching was more humorous or the humorous more touching. I thereforerefrain from perplexing the reader with the speeches in detail. Onlypart of one speech will I refer to, as it may be said to have had a sortof prophetic bearing on our tale. It fell from the lips of Lumley.

  "My friends," he said, with that grave yet pleasant urbanity which Ihave before said was so natural to him, "there is only one regret whichI will venture to express on this happy day, and it is this, that someof those who were wont to enliven us with their presence at FortWichikagan, are not with us to-night. I really do not think there wouldbe a single element wanting in the joy which it has pleased a loving Godto send me, if I could only have had my dear young friend, George Maxby,to be my best man--"

  He had to pause a few moments at this point, because of noisydemonstrations of assent.

  "And I am quite sure," he continued, "that it would have afforded asmuch satisfaction to you as it would to my dear wife and me, if we couldonly have had our sedate friend, Big Otter--"

  Again he had to pause, for the shouting with which this name wasreceived not only made the rafters ring, but caused the very candles onthe walls to wink.

  "If we could only have had Big Otter," repeated Lumley, "to dance at ourwedding. But it is of no use to sigh after the impossible. The days ofmiracles are over, and--"

  As he spoke the hall door slowly opened, and a sight appeared which notonly bereft the speaker of speech, but for a few minutes absolutelypetrified all the rest of the company. It was the face and figure of aman--tall, gaunt and worn.

  Now, good reader, as Lumley said (without very good authority!) the daysof miracles are over, yet I venture to think that many events in thislife do so much resemble miracles that we could not distinguish themfrom such unless the keys to their solution were given to us.

  I give you the key to the supposed miracle now in hand, by asking you toaccompany me deep into the wild-woods, and backward in time to about anhour before noon of the day preceding Christmas. It is a tangled shadyspot to which I draw attention, the snow-floor of which is over-archedby dark pine-branches and surrounded by walls of willows and othershrubs. There is a somewhat open circular space in the centre of thespot, into which an Indian on snow-shoes strode at the hour mentioned.Even his most intimate friends might have failed at a first glance torecognise Big Otter, for he was at the time very near the close of along, hard, wearisome journey, during the course of which he hadexperienced both danger and privation. Latterly he had conceived anidea, which he had striven with all his powers--and they were notsmall--to carry out. It was neither more nor less than to arrive intime to spend Christmas Day with his friends at Fort Wichikagan.

  But to accomplish this feat, commencing at the time he conceived it,required that the Indian should travel without fail upwards of fortymiles every day. This, on snow-shoes, could only be done by a veryHercules, and that only for a few days at a stretch. Big Otter knew hispowers of endurance, and had carried out his resolve nearly tocompletion, when a storm arose so fierce, with temperature so bitterlycold, that he could not force against it, and thus lost the greater partof a day. Still, the thing was not impossible, and, as the difficultiesmultiplied, our Indian's resolve to conquer increased.

  In this state of mind, and much worn and fagged in body, with soiled andrent garments that told of weeks upon weeks of toil, he entered thecircle, or open space before referred to, and, coming to a stand, restedthe butt of his gun on one of his snowshoes, heaved a deep sigh, andlooked round, as if undecided how to act.

  But Big Otter's periods of indecision never lasted long. Beingnaturally of a sociable turn of mind he partially revealed his mentalcondition by low mutterings which I take leave to translate.

  "Yes, I can do it. The pale-faces are pleasant men; pleasanter atChristmas-time than at other times. They love song, and Big Otter lovesto hear song, though he does not love to do it. Men do not love to trywhat they cannot do. The pale-faces have much food, too, on ChristmasDay, and much good-will. Big Otter loves both the good-will and thefood, especially that round thing they are so fond of--plum-puddinn theycall it. They dance much also. Dancing gives not much joy, though BigOtter can do some of it--but plum-puddinn is glorious! Waugh! I willdo it!"

  Having communed with himself thus far, the Indian leaned his gun againsta tree, flung down his provision-bag, took off his snow-shoes, clearedaway the snow, kindled a fire, spread his bed of pine-brush and hisblanket above it--and, in short went through the usual process ofencamping. It was early in the day to encamp, but there was only oneway in which our Indian could hope to partake of the plum-puddinn, andthat was to walk a little over fifty miles at one stretch. Thatdistance still lay between him and Fort Wichikagan, and it had to betraversed within fourteen and fifteen hours--including rests and food.

  To prepare himself for the feat Big Otter drew from his wallet anenormous mass of venison which he roasted and consumed. Then he filleda small portable kettle with snow, which, with the aid of a fierce fire,he soon converted into tea. You see our Indian was becoming civilisedby intercourse with pale-faces, and rather luxurious, for he carried teaand sugar on this journey. He did not deem butter a necessity, butcould afford to dispense with that, because of having the remains of arogan, or birch basket, of bear's grease (unscented, of course!) whichhe had reserved at the end of his fall hunt.

  The meal, or rather the gorging, over, Big Otter rolled himself head andfeet in a blanket, pillowed his head on the provision-wallet, andsuddenly went to sleep.

  Hour after hour passed, but not the slightest motion was perceptible inthat recumbent figure save the slow regular rise and fall of the deepchest. The short-lived sun of winter soon passed its zenith and beganto decline towards its early couch in the west, but still the sleeperlay motionless like a log. At last the shades of early evening began tofall, and then Big Otter awoke. He rose at once, stretched himself witha sort of awful energy, rolled up his blanket, put on his snow-shoes,caught up wallet and gun, and set off on his journey.

  To see a strong man stride over the land on snowshoes is a grand sightat any time, but to see Big Otter do it on this occasion would have beenworth a long journey. With his huge and weighty frame and his mightystride he made nothing of small obstacles, and was but little affectedby things that might have retarded ordinary mortals. Small bushes wentdown before him like grass, larger ones he turned aside, and thick oneshe went crashing through like an African elephant through jungle, whilethe fine frosted snow went flying from his snow-shoes right and left.There was no hesitancy or wavering as to direction or pace. The land hewas acquainted with, every inch. Reserve force, he knew, lay stored inevery muscle, and he was prepared to draw it all out when fatigue shouldtell him that revenue was expended and only capital remained.

  As the sun went down the moon rose up. He had counted on this and onthe fact that the land was comparatively open. Yet it was notmonotonous. Now he was crossing a stretch of prairie at top speed, anondriving through a patch of woodland. Here he went striding over thesurface of a frozen river, or breasting the slope of a small hill. Asthe night wore on he tightened his belt but did not halt to do so. Onceor twice he came to a good-sized lake where all impediments vanished.Off went the snowshoes and away he went over the marble surface at aslow trot--slow in appearance, though in reality quicker than thefastest walk.

  Then the moon went down and the grey light of morning--Christmasmorning--dawned. Still the red-man held on his way unchanged--apparently unchangeable. When the sun was high, he stopped suddenlybeside a fallen tree, cleared the snow off it, and sat down to eat. Hedid not sit long, and the breakfast was a cold one.

  In a few minutes the journey was resumed. The Indian was drawinglargely on his capital now, but, looking at him, you could not have toldit. By a little after six o'cl
ock that evening the feat wasaccomplished, and, as I have said, Big Otter presented himself at acritical moment to the wonder-stricken eyes of the wedding guests.

  "Did they make much of him?" you ask. I should think they did! "Didthey feed him?" Of course they did--stuffed him to repletion--set himdown before the massive ruins of the plum-puddinn, and would not let himrise till the last morsel was gone! Moreover, when Big Otter discoveredthat he had arrived at Fort Wichikagan, not only on Christmas Day, buton Chief Lumley's wedding-day, his spirit was so rejoiced that hisstrength came back again unimpaired, like Sampson's, and he danced thatnight with the pale-faces, till the small hours of the morning, to thestrains of a pig-in-its-agonies fiddle, during which process he consumedseveral buckets of hot tea. He went to rest at last on a buffalo robein a corner of the hall in a state of complete exhaustion and perfectfelicity.